Page 79 of Every Broken Thing

His face fell. “Like you’re going to break apart in my hands.”

“I’m not that breakable,” I said, and he hugged me again with a groan.

We stood on the side of the street for several long minutes, neither of us ready or willing to let go. But we couldn’t stay there forever. There was too much left unsaid, and I didn’t think I’d be able to get away with silence this time.

Stepping back, Ben kept his hands on my shoulders. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I lied. “He didn’t hurt me.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned. “What did he do?”

Hehadn’t done anything. I almost had, though. Shame wriggled into my chest to join the self-loathing already taking up residence there.

I wasn’t ready to face that, though. Maybe I never would be. So I collected the memories of what Eric had done, of what he’d nearly mademedo, and locked them deep inside. One day, maybe I’d open the cabinet and take them out, but I couldn’t right now. Not with Ben seconds away from losing his shit. Not with the evidence of Eric’s hands still warming the skin of my throat.

What would have happened if Acker hadn’t come looking for me? With a shake of my head, I banished the horror of that thought and forced a neutral expression onto my face.

“I was backstage alone,” I whispered as I stared down at the black pavement clashing with my beat-up Vans. “He just wanted to scare me, but he didn’tdoanything.”

It was partially true. He had talked a lot, though most of it had been entirely nonsensical.

“He just wanted to scare you?” he echoed, disbelief heavy in his voice.

“Yes,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

“You’re limping.”

I fisted my hands, fighting for calm. “I tripped.”

“Bullshit!”

Oh, come on! That was actually true.

“Ben, I can’t do this, right now. Don’t make me do this.”

“I’m trying to help you,” he shouted, and my temper flared in response.

“If you want to help me, then let it go!”

“Let it go? What, like last time?” he yelled, the volume of his voice punching a hole through my chest. “Yeah, pretending like it didn’t happen sure worked out great for you, didn’t it? Whatdo you think’s gonna happen the next time he comes around ‘just to scare you’?”

My mouth snapped shut with an audible clack, and I shoved his hands off my shoulders and turned back to my truck. “I’m not doing this.”

Ben followed like he always did. “Don’t you walk away from me.”

“I’m done talking.”

“Well, I’m not!” He shoved me against the side of the truck bed and boxed me in. “Running from this won’t make it go away, and you’re delusional if you think he won’t keep coming after you. It’s time to get your head out of the sand and tell someone.”

I blanched. “Tell someone?”

“Yes! Your dad or a teacher or, here’s a thought, maybe the fucking police. This won’t stop, and next time, you may not be lucky enough to get away unscathed.” His breath hitched. “I can’t always be there to protect you.”

Of course he blamed himself for this, even though he had nothing to do with it.

“You don’t have to protect me. I’m not your responsibility, and I don’t expect you to—”

“You’re my friend,” he insisted, craning his neck down to meet my gaze. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t let him hurt you again, and I’ve already failed you tonight.”

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